


I Don't Want To Wake Up On My Own Anymore

by safetypin



Series: Saturday Night Love [3]
Category: Late Night Host RPF, Saturday Night Live, Saturday Night Live RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 04:05:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6500110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safetypin/pseuds/safetypin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was Tuesday and Bill should have told someone. Told them anything, said anything- something - something that would have worked as a cry for help.<br/>Bill should have been honest with Seth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Don't Want To Wake Up On My Own Anymore

**Author's Note:**

> I got sad again and so I wrote this to vent.  
> Based between '08-'10, but obviously diverges from reality.

It was long into Tuesday night, but the Saturday Night Live cast, crew, and writers were only just getting started. Stuck in a locked office by himself, Bill Hader was not laughing. He should have been, though, but instead he was curled up into himself in the corner under the window. He should have been making strange voices as he and John Mulaney wrote four new sketches, but instead he was talking only to himself, saying sad things.

“The window is there to look out of, not to jump from.”

The only lights in Bill’s office were those cast by the city outside and from small electrical devices. There were faint murmurs from the hundred or so people outside, a faint hum from the cars and the lives down below and outside the window. Bill was a grown man, he was a grown man and grown men don’t cry. Bill was sobbing.

“There’s too much… everywhere. It’s everywhere and it’s too much, it’s everything and I can’t, I can’t- I can’t.”

It was Tuesday and Bill should have told someone. Told them anything, said anything- something - something that would have worked as a cry for help. He could have gone to Fred, or he should have gone to Jason. He had friends that he was supposed to rely on and trust, but if he never let himself trust and reach out he’d never really know. Hell, knowing didn’t matter, staying alive until Saturday did. 

“You can do this. Just a few more days. Sunday is coming and on Sunday you can go missing and you can swallow anything, just wait ‘till Sunday.”

Bill should have been honest with Seth. He had asked Bill about his anxiety and if he was doing alright, but Bill had just written it off as faux concern, just a superior making sure the subordinate was still in working condition. Bill wasn’t in working condition though, not right now while he sat on the floor in the corner of his locked office. 

“Seth… he won’t care when I’m gone, he’ll be fine. He has so many friends, he’ll turn to one of them and I’ll be forgotten no later than two shows from now.”

Seth probably hadn’t really cared when he asked Bill if he was alright, and that was it for Bill. Because Bill had done that one thing that only the stupidest of people do and he fell in love. He fell in love with another man when he hadn’t even realized he was bisexual, and that man was also the equivalent of his boss had they worked elsewhere. But they _didn’t_ work elsewhere and Seth had a girlfriend who came to every show, who was beautiful and perfect. A girlfriend who was the polar opposite of Bill, and someone with whom Bill would be a fool to compete with. 

“Just sleep, just sleep, they’ll find you in the morning. I’ll tell them I had a panic attack and locked myself in… that’ll work. Yeah, I’ll make it to Sunday.”

Bill’s mother had taught him lying was wrong as a young child, and here Bill was, lying so his suicide plan would remain undisturbed. Lying so that no one would be the wiser of Bill’s darker thoughts. Would lie to keep second or third keys being made for his door.

“You just have to live until you don’t have to live. It’s simple, follow through with your obligations, do what gramma taught you.”

His gramma. Oh Bill’s grandmother would have been saddened to have seen the state her little string bean was in. She would have told him of how she told his grandfather to take her to prom, and how from there they fell in love. She would have told him that there’s two sides to every story and that he had no business persuming the feelings of Seth Meyers by himself. She would have told Bill to get out of his goddamned corner and march to Seth’s office to set the record straight. Or gay, because nothing about Bill’s feelings for Seth were straight.

“What do I do? What do I do? I don’t want to- I can’t- I, I.”

A knock on the wood of the door.

Another.

“Bill? You in there?”

Seth.

Seth was outside and Bill was locked in and his anxiety was spiking and jumping through the window was looking better and better and-

The doorknob rattled.

“Bill I know you’re in there, Kristen saw you go in and no one’s seen you come out.” A sigh.  
“Bill please open the door before I have to call maintenance to let me in.”

The floor creaked. Damn old buildings. Bill moved across the cramped room.

He unlocked the door then opened it a crack.

“What, Seth?” Bill was tired now. He was tired from all his crying even though now he had dry cheeks and red-rimmed eyes. 

“Please Bill, let me in. It’s time for us to talk.” The door swung open wider and the head writer entered. 

Bill sunk back into his corner and so Seth sighed as he relaxed himself down onto the floor too. 

It was silent in the office, the window still remaining as the only true light source. 

“Have you ever had depression and anxiety Seth?” Bill asked, voice relaxed and eyes closed.

“Anxiety, yes. But, not depression. Stop being evasive Bill.” Seth needed direct answers, it was four am and all he had done for the past eight or so hours was write.

“I’m suicidal.” Seth said nothing.

“On another note, I’m also in love with you.” Internally Bill rolled his eyes, so much for subtlety. 

“Oh.” Was all Seth could say. Bill wasn’t surprised.

“Are you being treated for this, Bill?” Now Bill was surprised. “You know, Darrell, he’s been through a lot, he’s got depression too. Thing is though, is Darrell is being treated now, going to a therapist, taking meds. I can help you get that Bill.” Seth looked so genuine, so determined to help. 

“Seth,” Bill choked out.

“I can’t save you Bill, you have to do it and I know that. But at least let me help you save yourself. I care Bill, I do.” Sliding across the floor, Seth settled in front of Bill, taking one of Bill’s hands into his own.

“Please.” Bill whispered. Seth drew the shaking man into his arms. He thought for a second about what Bill had said. It seemed so unfitting for such a joyus and silly man like Bill to be suffering so greatly on the inside.

“In the morning, let’s get a call in to your doctor so you can have a talk about this, so they can get you on some medication to help you out.” 

A few tears slipped past Bill’s eyes and onto Seth’s shoulder as Seth reassured the taller man. Seth still hadn’t acknowledged Bill’s second confession though, and that worried Bill. But he wouldn’t ask, not now anyway.

“Bill? Let’s get off the floor, okay?” Seth tugged them both up, resettling them on Bill’s over-large bean bag. 

Curled together, Seth held Bill. It was terrifying to Bill, feeling like one misstep would break all of the trust they had seemingly just built up. With his head resting on Seth’s shoulder, Bill held his breath.

“I broke up with my girlfriend. I did it because I think that I love you too, Bill Hader.” Seth whispered. Bill exhaled, eyes wide in the dark.

“I mean, we go together so well, Bill, just look at us. We get along, we already know that we can make it through arguments after the one’s we’ve had. Add in us being in love and we could go out together some off night. Will you go out with me, Bill?” Seth tilted his head to make eye contact with the other man. Bill only nodded, eyes wide and watery.

“There we go, we can be the most picturesque and shocking couple in the media. We’ll get you treatment, I’ll stay right with you every step of the way. It won’t be as easy as it sounds, no, but we’ll make it. We’ll make it because we’re strong and we have each other.” Seth crooned as he ran his hand through Bill’s hair. Small smiles had crept onto both faces.

“It sounds so… perfect.” Bill whispered, awestruck. Not an hour ago he was ready to die, and here he was now in the arms of the man of his dreams, being promised support so long as he lived. 

“It can be, Bill. We can make it that way, if we work for it. Say, about that date. Let me take you out and about on Sunday? Hell, we could even go home together after the show.” Seth questioned Bill, who looked so very _happy_ laying in his arms.

“Yes.” Bill breathed. It was everything he dreamed of on a night made of nightmares. 

“Mm, thank god.” Seth laughed that laugh that always made Bill smile. They were both smiling as Seth whispered, “Sleep.” And they curled even closer together. 

It was writer’s night at 30 Rock and Bill Hader should have been writing sketches for Saturday’s show. Seth Meyers should have been doing so too, though. But instead they made next Sunday seen bright, they were curled together on a bean bag on the floor of Bill’s locked office, asleep. Asleep and in love.

**Author's Note:**

> Title credits to Asleep by The Smiths.


End file.
